


Exposure

by Purple_Mind



Category: Deadpool - All Media Types, Marvel, Spider-Man - All Media Types
Genre: Breaking the Fourth Wall, College Student Peter, Fluff, Humor, M/M, Photography, Pre-Slash, Precious Peter Parker, Spideypool - Freeform, Tags to be added, Wade Wilson Breaking the Fourth Wall, Wade Wilson Needs A Hug, Wade is around 28-30, Who Knows?, but it's okay if you haven't read it, dorks with a crush, once again the Teen rating has everything to do with Wade's potty mouth, or maybe just slash this time, this is a sequel to "Chiaroscuro", wink wink
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2016-10-12
Updated: 2016-10-12
Packaged: 2018-08-22 01:33:52
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 986
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8267803
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Purple_Mind/pseuds/Purple_Mind
Summary: So, the cat is out of the bag: Wade knows who Spider-Man is.Now, what?Or, what happens after the events of "Chiaroscuro".You don't necessarily need to have read it to get what's going on, but don't let me stop you from doing it, if you feel like it!





	

**Author's Note:**

> Hey there, folks!  
> You asked for it, I itched to write it, and here it is, a sequel to "Chiaroscuro".
> 
> Full disclosure: I didn't intend for this story, at first, to be divided into chapters. But two factors contributed to my eventual decision to split it in (most likely) two parts:
> 
> a) Its lenght (I'm not even done writing it yet, although the layout is there);
> 
> b) I'm currently in Tokyo, taking a 10 week language course to hopefully boost my proficency in Japanese, which is my major at uni. I saved up a long time for this, and I'm nervous as hell, but I'm making the most of the experience.  
> What that means is that it's gonna probably take me a while to finish this story, because of time constraints, but I wanted to put something out there. I hated the idea of radio silence for another two months. So, here it is. A chapter. A snippet, more like. I promise I won't abandon this, but it's gonna take a while, so bear with me, if you can.
> 
> I was blown away by the nice comments and kudos left on "Chiaroscuro", and I want to thank everyone who took any time out of their day to let me know what they thought of my story. You're all awesome. Yup, all of you.
> 
> Not beta read this time: if you spot any mistakes, please let me know, so I can learn and improve (I'm not a native speaker).
> 
> Alright, I'm done. Here it goes.  
> Enjoy. :)

 

New York is never really quiet.  
It’s not now, as Wade runs his way across the roofs of Queens’ less vertically daunting buildings, the Moon high in the sky, only half-hidden by the constant light pollution floating up from the borough.  
  
Of course, no matter how many cute catchphrases street vendors like to print all over tourist-trap memorabilia to make it seem more unique, the lack of silence is a characteristic most cities of that size present, and Wade would know, because he’s seen quite a few of them.

London, Hong Kong, Vegas… Jacksonville. You name it.

And yet, Wade always comes back to New York.  
The reason for that, all in all, can be summed up with a neatly folded picture nestled into one of his many pouches.

 _(Wadey’s got a cruuuuuuush. How_ adorable. _)_  
**[Deadpool and Spidey, sitting in a tree, F-U-C-K-I…]  
**

“Keep it PG up there. We don’t wanna push this thing onto an R just yet. Man, you know it’s bad when _I’m_ the one who’s gotta say that. What has the world come to...” Wade mumbles, glaring upwards at nothing in particular, hopping noisily onto a nearby fire escape to climb up the roof him and Spider-Man have come to regard as their regular team-up meeting point.

Oh yeah, you’ve read that right _regular team-up._  
With _Spider-Man_.

 _‘Peter’_ Wade’s mind supplies, then, and his heart does a funny little flip that makes him almost miss his next step.  
Spidey has told him his name, and showed him his face. Sure, it _is_ just a photo, and Wade can’t _actually_ be sure if the young man smiling softly at him through the frame is the same one whom he fights crime with every other day, but the likelihood is high enough to make his head spin.

And his head doesn't need any more help in the 'getting scrambled' department, really.

The point is that, for some reason, Spider-Man has trusted him with his identity; _him_ , Wade Wilson, merc extraordinaire (only serious offers, not accepting kill jobs at the moment - unless it’s taking out baby Hitler in the past, _obviously_ \- call during lunch hours, rates are negotiable) and if that isn’t a mind fuck, Wade doesn’t know what is.

He’s lost enough in his thoughts that when he reaches the roof, he doesn’t immediately realize that it’s empty, but when his boots land on the concrete as silently as possible and no snarky comment on the pointlessness of trying to sneak up on Spidey seems to be forthcoming, he does realize something is definitely amiss.  
Wade is never the first one on their roof.  
He’s a diva that way. Or, mostly, he’s unequipped with powerful web-shooters able to swing his weight around NYC.

The point of the matter is, there is a distinct lack of Spider-Man in the immediate vicinity, and Wade is pretty sure he hasn’t been that disappointed since the ‘ _How I Met Your Mother_ ’ finale.

 _(Shoulda expected it)_  
**[Good things don’t happen to you]  
**

Wade shakes his head again, a tiny growl escaping his lips as he does so. The voices have been particularly annoying from the moment he found out his apartment had been broken into, and even more so after he’s discovered why.

He reaches into a pouch, and takes out the note he found hanging from a web in his living room earlier that day, quickly scanning over the last few lines.  
  
_‘See you tonight? Same place, same time?_  
_Yours,_  
_Peter Parker (your friendly neighbourhood poor college student)_ ’

Yeah, the note is pretty straightforward. And yet, there is no spider in sight.

Of course, a million things could’ve happened. But since Wade’s brain’s a fucking asshole, it immediately jumps on the _‘shit on Wade’s parade’_ express, offering him visions of doom and gloom to rival the ones of a noughties oh-so-misunderstood teenager with access to ‘ _My Chemical Romance_ ’ ’s greatest hits: it’s fucking miserable, okay?  
  
Wade sighs, flopping down in a sitting position on the edge of the building, boots dangling over the street below, the artificial lights making the asphalt seem almost orange in the dark.  
He’s sure at least half an hour passes before he accepts the fact that, nope, Peter really isn’t coming.

 _(Well, ain’t you fucking pathetic?)_  
**[Story of his life, to be honest]**

Wade closes his eyes, and tries to think straight.  
He’s never been very good at that (pun intended), but he gives it a go.

Peter has mentioned college exams coming up, hasn’t he? The huge nerd is probably holed up some place, stuffing his brain full of science-y facts.  
Yeah. That must be it.  
Wade momentarily pushes aside all destructive thoughts; it’s not easy, but he manages.

Being able to text Spidey would probably help, right about now, but their team-up logistics haven’t required them to have each other’s digits thus far: they meet on the same roof at the same time a few times a week; they kick some ass; they hang out; they go their separate ways.

“It’s okay. It’s fine. I’ll come back tomorrow.” Wade informs the world at large, as he stands and adjusts the straps of his katana sheaths. “He hasn’t skipped more than one patrol a month since I’ve known him. Once, he’s shown up in a pink and baby blue suit, because it had lost all color in the wash, and he hadn’t had time to fix a new one. Responsibility, man! If I have to hear one more lecture on fucking _responsibility_ I’m gonna stab myself. Not that it’d do much, but it’s the thought that counts.”  
  
He stretches a little, then, a small smile finding its way back in his lips, despite everything.  
Tomorrow. He’s gonna be here tomorrow.

 

\--

 

Wade comes back to the roof for two more nights.  
Each time, it’s empty.  
Something is definitely up.  
  
_(Well, then. Whatcha gonna do ‘bout it?)_  
**[Something stupid, probably]  
**_(Or reckless)_

“Or both.”

**Author's Note:**

> You can buy me a coffee **[here](http://ko-fi.com/A025LSR)** :)


End file.
